As you walk into the first floor of the Independent Fair at the X Initiative, you're greeted by the ubiquitous Bruce High Quality Foundation's contribution, an inflatable union rat armed with monotone invectives. "Do I have your attention?" He asks, which is indeed a lot to ask at an art fair. The rat typically signifies a labor strike; its objectives here were unclear. The piece, which obstructed views of Rikrit Tiravanija's mirrored ping-pong table, was among the least friendly things about the inaugural opening.
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The old guard (and even a few young'uns) turned up for the gala opening of the 2010 ADAA Art Show at the Park Avenue armory, the most exclusive flea market in town. All of the sterling galleries were there, showing their best wares in the forms of Andy Warhols, Pablo Picassos and Henry Moores. Nostalgia seeped through the stalls for a time when one put on their best pearls for a visit to your dealer, who welcomed you into his space on 57th Street with a private viewing of their best modern paintings—and, if the time was right, a single malt scotch on the rocks.
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Unfortunately (or presciently) timed to preview of the Whitney Biennial, the MoMA opened South African artist William Kentridge's
Five Themes on Tuesday night to a more subdued audience. In the atrium of the second floor contemporary art galleries, Michael Stipe, Marina Abramovic and Anna Deavere Smith mingled under a ceiling conspicuously absent of Gabriel Orozco's monumental sculpture
Mobile Matrix. The crowd trickled into the galleries at a pace that allowed for an almost solitary viewing of over 120 of Kentridge's works in a range of media including animated films, drawings, prints, theater models and books.
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The very best of the art world (and their plus-ones) showed up for the preview of the Whitney Biennial,
2010, on Tuesday night. The weather did not accommodate, although it gave guests plenty to lackadaisically complain about. The rain precipitated a line at the door, where bewildered staff doubled as bouncers, checking names on iPods and rejecting guests, even the elderly, as they rushed the entrance. The museum's elevators were blocked by the convergence of the line for the coat check and the line to the cocktail reception in the basement, making it impossible to move in any direction except for up—or for nervous artists to obtain a sip of water. Ascending five flights of stairs on foot, Jeffrey Deitch stopped only for a brief moment to catch his breath before he began to loop around the galleries.
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Opening a Kiki Smith exhibition at the Elizabeth A. Sackler Center for Feminist Art seems like the obvious choice for the Brooklyn Museum, being as the artist is the reigning queen of feminist art in America. On Thursday night, Smith accepted yet another crown, graciously welcoming an understated group of fellow artists including Mark Seliger, Fred Wilson and Susanna Moore to celebrate the opening of her new exhibition, Kiki Smith: Sojourn. Building on the increasingly alluring (and eerie) period rooms surrounding the contemporary galleries, Smith transformed the white halls of the museum into an ethereal, intimate domestic space using over sixty pieces in a range of media including cast objects, unique sculpture and works on paper. The mood was best exemplified by Pat Steir who, when confronted with the camera, turned to Clifford Ross, who wrapped his arms around her so that she wouldn't have to face the lens by herself, straight on.
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